


Elegy

by PetitAvocat



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Loss, M/M, One-Sided Relationship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-05
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-04 09:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitAvocat/pseuds/PetitAvocat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kaidan had heard that you go to Omega to get away from familiar faces.  So that’s where he went after the funeral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elegy

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted here:
> 
> http://masseffectkink.livejournal.com/6066.html?thread=27558066#t27558066

Kaidan had heard that you go to Omega to get away from familiar faces.  So that’s where he went after the funeral.  He was running – he wasn’t too proud to admit that, not now, not after feeling like his lungs had been crushed and his heart shattered – and he hoped that Omega would welcome him into its dark alleys and grimy apartments.  He hoped Omega would let him disappear.

He sat at the bar in the lower section of Afterlife.  Two bartenders were batarian and one was turian, and Kaidan only ever ordered from the turian.  He’d heard nasty rumors about a batarian bartender here, and he didn’t want to take his chances.  Shepard would have stepped up, demanded to know which one it was, poisoning humans – Shepard, Shepard, fuck, he had been doing so well.  Not thinking about Shepard but only because he wasn’t thinking about anything, focusing on the burn and bitterness of the alcohol as he tossed it down his throat.  As soon as he let his mind wander, it returned to Shepard.

Kaidan would always return to Shepard.

The warmth of a body suddenly occupied the seat next to him, and he instinctively shied away.  Not fast enough.  A heavy turian hand fell on his shoulder, a startlingly familiar flanging voice greeted him, recognizable even through the unmistakably drunk slurring.

“Kaidan.  What the fuck’re you doing here?”

“Get the fuck off.”  Kaidan awkwardly twisted his shoulder away from Garrus.  He didn’t want this, he wanted to be alone in his misery.  Nobody else could understand.  Nobody else had loved Shepard as intensely, had lost themselves as completely in the Commander’s orbit.

“You look like shit.”

Kaidan turned to retort, but paused as he took in the turian’s appearance.  He knew his own skin was paler than usual, his cheeks gaunt from lack of eating – most of his calories from hard alcohol and cheap delivery, and never enough for a biotic, even one who wasn’t using his powers regularly anymore – and his face unshaven, hair mussed and longer than it had been since he was a teenager.

But, and Kaidan was no expert on turian appearances, but Garrus looked like he’d been through hell.  His facial plates looked drier, somehow more brittle and dull.  His fringe was drooping, and his colony markings were faded.  Small white spots that Kaidan was pretty sure hadn’t been there before were now speckling the side of his neck.

His retort died on his tongue.  All he could muster was a “Same to you,” before turning back to his drink and hunching his shoulders further.

“You’re not the only one who’s grieving, Alenko.”

“Don’t.”  Kaidan tensed.

“Damnit, you’re not the only one who cared.”  Garrus’s subvocals were rising, higher and more emotional.

How dare he?  What gave him the right to come in here and take away Kaidan’s mourning, try to undermine his emptiness by telling him ‘you’re not the only one’?

Kaidan snapped.  “Cared?  I _love_ Shepard, you bastard.”  His drink spilled as he gestured.  He didn’t care, knew he was flaring too, didn’t care.  Didn’t care about anything anymore, anything except this yawning void eating him up from the inside.  He reached for Garrus, not knowing what he wanted to accomplish, push him away or pull him closer.  His own words played back in his head and he corrected himself with a sob.  “Loved.  Fuck.”

A hard turian forehead pressed against his, talons suddenly gripping his dirty gray shirt.  “I know, Kaidan.  Spirits, we all did.  Every one of us.  You’re not alone in this.”  The talons tightened.  “Not alone.”

Kaidan didn’t need to understand subvocals to recognize that Garrus was trying to comfort himself as much as Kaidan.  Desperation and grief were universal.

He realized too late that his hands were clinging to the material of Garrus’s tunic as well.

“Garrus, please, please.”  He didn’t know what he was asking, but then Garrus was awkwardly pressing the plates of his mouth against Kaidan’s dry lips.  It wasn’t passionate or loving, but it was contact, it was touching another person, and Kaidan hadn’t done that since… since.

He kissed back.

Garrus’s mandible was wet.  Kaidan didn’t know if turians could cry, or if the wetness came from his own tears.

Then they were stumbling away from the bar, down some stairs.  Garrus was leading.  Kaidan’s back hit a wall and Garrus was pressing against him, hard and needy.  The turian’s leg slid between Kaidan’s thighs and he whimpered.  Maybe he sobbed.  He could taste saltiness on his tongue.

A door opened next to him and Garrus pulled him into the room, some dark rent-by-the-hour hole under the nightclub.  They tumbled onto the bed, Kaidan underneath, fingers tugging at the unfamiliar fabric.  A thin, high-pitched keening was making his bones vibrate.  Was that how turians showed sorrow?

Garrus’s tunic slithered to the floor and Kaidan felt his own shirt being tugged.  He lifted his arms and the material pulled over his head.  Garrus’s hard carapace rested against him but not for long, urgency making Kaidan roll them over.  He stood and stripped his pants before doing the same with Garrus’s, turian trousers not that different from human.

Garrus sat up, grabbed his wrist, pushed him onto the bed on all fours.  He fisted the sheets, head bowed, shaking, needing, a small part of him feeling horribly, disgustingly guilty, but the suffocating loneliness of despair pushing him to want every inch of contact he could have.  When he felt Garrus’s tongue explore his entrance he arched back, his moan nearing the pitches of Garrus’s wail, the two harmonizing in anguish and pleasure.

Something hard, big, rough pressed at his entrance and he rolled his hips back.  There wasn’t enough slickness, even with Garrus’s saliva and his cock’s natural self-lubrication; it would hurt, and Kaidan couldn’t help but think, _good, let it_ , and maybe if the gods, goddesses, or spirits were willing, the physical pain would take away some of the heartache.

He felt Garrus enter him, thrust against the tight ring of muscle before sliding past with a burst of pain, and he rocked his hips back hard, impaling himself on the alien member.  The mournful whine became a grunt of pleasure, and Garrus, taking the cue that he was ready, began fucking him hard, the sharp slap of hips on ass filling the room as Kaidan felt his skin being rubbed raw by the rough turian plates.  He thrust back, meeting Garrus halfway, squeezing his eyes shut and thinking _Shepard, Shepard, Shepard_ , what would Shepard think, seeing them, knowing how they had fallen.

Garrus was gripping his hips tightly, three-fingered digits clinging to his smooth, fragile human skin.  He suddenly let out something that sounded like a human sob, and Kaidan realized he had been chanting, gasping his mantra of _Shepard, Shepard, Shepard_ out loud.

He buried his face in the pillows, muffling himself, and brought a hand up to stroke his cock in time with the thrusts.  Don’t think, don’t think about it, just feel the pain and pleasure and repentance.

It didn’t take long, emotional tension built up for days, weeks, suddenly releasing as Kaidan screamed into the bed, his white come barely visible as he spurted over the stark white sheets.  He clenched down around Garrus and felt the turian shudder, heard him roar his own release, moan something that could have been _that name_ , and felt his cock throb rhythmically as he emptied himself inside the human.

For just a few seconds, the room was silent except for their breathing.

Then Garrus pulled out, and Kaidan felt the bed dip and shift as he got up.  The biotic rolled onto his side facing the wall and waited.  He heard the door open and close, and turned, gathering his own clothes.

When he emerged, Garrus had vanished into the anonymous throngs of Omega.


End file.
